


As Long as You Need Me

by firstdegreefangirl



Category: BrainDead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Luke is the best brother, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, NO head explosions, Optimistic Ending, Triggers, but it's not "sad" either, like it's not "happy", post-spacebugs, serious conversations, serious stuff kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8226016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstdegreefangirl/pseuds/firstdegreefangirl
Summary: Gareth has learned to expect pretty much anything when he walks into Laurel’s office. MacGuivered exam tables, CAT scans clipped to windows, by now he’s game for whatever.Except Laurel’s absence. TW: anxiety/panic attacks, depression, mentions of suicidal thoughts





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This covers some really heavy stuff. I've mentioned it above, but wanted to cover it again here and add one last thing: I'm pretty sure I tagged everything, but if I missed something, please comment and let me know. It's been betaed by my best friend/creative writing major. I *think* we caught everything, but feel free to let me know if we missed anything.
> 
> Chaptered for coherency, but I'm posting all at once.
> 
> Aside from that, kudos and comments are like warm hugs!!

Gareth has learned to expect pretty much anything when he walks into Laurel’s office. MacGuivered exam tables, CAT scans clipped to windows, by now he’s game for whatever.

Except Laurel’s absence.

Its 2:30 on a Thursday afternoon. Laurel should be here. She’s stopped scheduling meetings outside the office since the NEA guy pulled out his knife. Regardless of his intentions, it scared Laurel enough to stick to home field advantage.

While Gareth is standing there stunned, Luke strolls in from his own office.

“Umm, hey, Gareth. Can I help you?” Luke has gotten much better about tolerating Gareth in recent weeks, but the two men are by no means close friends.

“I’m- ah- looking for your sister.” Gareth shifts uncomfortably; he knows that Luke is aware of their relationship, but he and Laurel had agreed not to be obnoxiously forward about it at work.

(Here’s the thing: Gareth and Laurel are both rule-followers, with few exceptions. So their third weekend as an official couple was spent filling out relationship-disclosure forms for their respective bosses. Luke is learning to stand Gareth and, well, Laurel just stays out of Red’s eye line.)

“She left about an hour ago. Said she wasn’t feeling well.” When Luke doesn’t elaborate, Gareth asks the obvious follow-up.

“Did she say what’s wrong?”

“No.” But his body language betrays him. Clearly Luke knows more than he’s letting on, but Gareth doesn’t push him.

“Alright. Well, umm … see you around, I guess.”

“Yeah.” Luke disappears back into his office when Gareth turns to leave. As he walks back to the Republican wing of the Capitol, Gareth pulls out his phone to text Laurel.

**Gareth 2:37 pm**

Hey. Luke said u left early. Everything ok???

He still hasn’t gotten a reply by the time he gets back to his office, so Gareth tells Red that he has to head out for the day to handle “a personal emergency.” Red tells him to “be safe, son,” with a wink that suggests more than not getting hit by oncoming traffic. Gareth fires off another text when he gets onto the subway.

**Gareth 2:56 pm**

I’m coming over. Be there in 20

When Gareth gets off the train, he still hasn’t heard form Laurel. Not that he’s been checking or anything, but he’s noticing that the minutes crawl by slower when you’re watching them. It’s a short walk from the subway station to Laurel’s building. Then it’s stairs to the third floor, sixth door down on the left. Now all that’s left is to stare at the door and deliberate.

_Do I knock on the door or not?_ Gareth ponders the question for several long moments. He has a key from when laurel had to go to LA for a couple of days last month (someone had to water the houseplants she bought, even as she denied making D.C. a permanent home. It’s easy for Gareth to see that she’s putting down roots in more ways than one). But Gareth isn’t sure that they’re _that_ together. They’ve definitely got a serious relationship going on, but it’s only been three months. They both still have their own apartments, and they spend as many nights apart as they do together. _OK. Half as many nights. He’s pretty sure she stayed over at Rochelle’s one night last week. Point is._

Gareth shakes off his stupor when he realizes just how long he’s been standing outside Laurel’s door. He reaches into his pocket and wraps a hand around his key ring. _Screw it_. He doesn’t want to disturb her if she’s sick, and besides, he told her he’d be over.                                                                                                                                      

He stops in the entryway and toes off his shoes, knowing that no illness in the world could stop Laurel from maiming him should he let footprints appear on her white carpet.

As he fills a glass of water at the sink, Gareth calls Laurel’s name loudly enough to be heard, but not so loudly that he’d wake her up should she be asleep. When she doesn’t respond, he walks the now familiar path to Laurel’s bedroom.

Sure enough, Laurel is sound asleep. She’s lying on top of the covers in sweats and a tank top, and Gareth isn’t sure, but he thinks her eyes looks tears. He watches her for a moment, trying to figure out what to do next.

Eventually, Gareth sheds his dress slacks and button-down and climbs into bed next to Laurel. He wraps an arm around her and she curls into him almost instantly.

Gareth sighs and settles in to wait for Laurel to wake up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts getting into some of the messier parts of the plot line. Take care of yourselves.

Laurel wakes up the same way she does everything else: very slowly at first, then like a bomb going off. She shifts gently against Gareth’s chest before sitting bolt upright.

Usually, this is the part where she swings her legs over the side of the bed and starts talking to the room about everything she has to do that day.

(Gareth asked her about it once. Why she’s so against lazy mornings spent lying in bed.

“I don’t like wasting time,” she’d told him. “It’s too easy to not get back up and all of a sudden all you ever do is lie in bed.”

He’d wedged his tongue into the corner of his mouth and asked if spending all her time in bed was really such a bad thing. The way she forced herself to laugh suggested that she thought it was.

Gareth hadn’t asked any more questions.)

Today Laurel sits up, Gareth’s hand trailing lightly along her back, and immediately flops back down beside him.

“Hey,” he whispers gently. “Everything OK?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” She tucks herself in tightly against his side and he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“One, you’re waking up at 6:30 at night. Two, you left work early, something you didn’t even do when you were pretending to hate your job.” It’s true; Laurel has always had a strong work ethic. She may not have taken right away to being a constituent caseworker, but that didn’t mean she didn’t give it her all. “Three, when I got here, you looked like you’d been crying. What’s up?”

Laurel sighs heavily into Gareth’s chest, and there’s a long pause before she actually responds.

“I don’t know.” Gareth hums noncommittally and waits for Laurel to continue. “There’s just—this just happens sometimes. I- I get so – I just need a break!” Hervoice breaks and suddenly she’s sobbing into his chest.

 Gareth spends the next few minutes whispering sweet nothings into Laurel’s hair. He’s not saying much of any substance, mostly things like “you’re OK,” and “let it out,” and “I’m here, I’ve got you.” But it seems to do the trick. Soon, Laurel is whimpering in Gareth’s arms, but the tears have mostly stopped. Gareth helps her sit up and passes her the glass of water off the bedside table. Laurel’s hands shake as she drinks, but she takes it gratefully. When she settles back against Gareth, he notices how weak she seems, fragile almost.

It breaks his heart a little bit.

Several minutes pass in silence, punctuated only by Laurel’s heavy breathing. Finally, Gareth speaks softly.

“Laurel, do you wanna talk about this?”

“I had a bad day today.”

“I gathered. What happened? Was it a constituent?"

“That was definitely the icing on the bad-day cake.” Laurel shifts so she can press herself closer to Gareth. “People don’t understand that there are limits on what the Senate can do, even if we had total partisanship. Besides, it’s not my fault that we don’t! That’s when I gave up and left; I told him off and may have crossed a couple of lines.”

“Sounds like a jerk. ‘Icing on the cake’?” Gareth holds Laurel a little tighter as he presses for more information.

“Promise you won’t hold this next part against me?” Laurel looks up at him, and from the angle he gets, she looks almost impossibly small and terrified.

“Laurel,” he’s legitimately hurt by her insinuation. “I would never use our relationship to get ammunition against you. Work is work, and we’re us. Two totally separate entities.”

“No—I know—I mean, like in this. Don’t think less of me?”

“Never.” Gareth is sincere as he kisses Laurel’s temple and rubs her arm soothingly. She takes a deep breath and speaks slowly, choosing her words carefully and waiting for them to sink in.

“I have … an anxiety disorder.” When she realizes that Gareth isn’t going to run away screaming, she finishes. “And depression.” Laurel buries her face in his chest, trying to hide from him, even as she seeks comfort.

Gareth runs his hand up and down Laurel’s arm as he carefully considers what to say next. Finally, he settles on the simple and, likely, obvious.

“OK.”

Laurel lifts her head and looks him in the eye. “You don’t care?”

“Laurel, you had anxiety and depression when I met you?” She nods. “And when we started dating?” She nods again. “Then it doesn’t matter. You’re the same you that you were then, just now I have two more words to describe parts of you.”

“Really?” It’s clear that she doesn’t believe it, that people have hurt her because of this, and Gareth is alarmed by the sudden desire he has to badly injure anyone who would even consider doing that.

“Really. There’s just one thing I need to know about this. Other than that, if you want to talk, I think it would be good and I’m here to listen, but it’s up to you if you want to tell me anything else.” Laurel cuts him off, voice wavering slightly.

“What?”

“Have you ever hurt yourself?” Gareth looks away when he asks, suddenly taking a great interest in the doorway to the en-suite bathroom.

“Physically? No, but I’d be lying if I said it never crossed my mind. Mentally? My brain loves few things more than telling itself how terrible it is.” Laurel tucks her face back into his chest.

“Good. Promise me you won’t?” Gareth tightens his arms around her, a little afraid of her answer. He lets out a breath when he feels her nod her head. “Good.”

They fall into a companionable silence that stretches on long enough to border on uncomfortable before Laurel mutters from against Gareth’s torso.

“Could you stop thinking so loud?” It’s true; there are so many questions racing through Gareth’s mind, but he knows better than to ask. _Are you getting help? How bad is it? What’s it like?_ Instead he just asks one:

“What can I do to help?”

“Stay?”

Gareth kisses the top of Laurel’s head. “Of course.”


	3. Chapter 3

Laurel returns to work two days later with very little fanfare, aside from Luke calling her into his office.

“What’s up?” She closes the door and takes a seat on the futon.

“Hey, are you OK?” Luke sits beside her.

“Yeah, the pharmacy was behind on my refills, so I had a rough couple of days. I guess it’s proof that the meds are working?” Laurel gives a short, forced laugh.

“Gareth, y’know, he was really worried about you.”

“I know. He came by the apartment and sat with me for a while.”

“You should talk to him.” Luke turns to face the room, a futile attempt to diffuse some of the emotional depth the conversation has taken.

“I told him.”

“But did you talk to him?” Laurel’s silence is answer enough. “Sis, you can’t do this. Not everyone is out to hurt you.”

“I know.” Then, “Listen, this has been a great chat, but I’ve gotta get back to work.” Laurel beats a hasty retreat, but the conversation weighs heavily on her mind all afternoon. Eventually, she sends Gareth a text between constituent meetings.

**Laurel 2:17 pm**

Dinner at mine tonight?

**Gareth 2:19 pm**

Sure <3

Gareth stops at Laurel’s office when his day is done. She’s finishing up with a constituent – something about flowers in city parks causing allergic reactions, he thinks – so Gareth makes himself at home in her office and plays solitaire on his phone. They leave together when she finishes, and stop to pick up Thai on the way to Laurel’s apartment. When they get inside, Laurel pulls down plates and sets places at the island.

“Oh-ho, fancy.” Gareth teases, before stopping in his tracks. “Wait … I didn’t forget an occasion did I?”

“No.” Laurel slides onto a barstool and picks up her fork. “But we need to talk.”

“Am I in trouble?” Gareth asks around a mouthful of curry.

Laurel shakes her head. “No.”

“Then what ‘talk’ is this?”

“This is the ‘you asked how you can help and I didn’t give you a real answer’ talk.” When Gareth lifts an eyebrow in confusion, she elaborates. “The other night, Gare. You said ‘what can I do to help?’ and all I said was ‘stay’.”

“Which I did.”

“Yes, and it was what I needed then. But I feel like I owe you a better explanation.”

“Laurel, you don’t ‘owe’ me-” she lifts a hand to cut him off.

“Maybe not, but there’s no way you don’t have questions about it.”

“OK … why Thursday?”

“The pharmacy screwed up my prescriptions so I couldn’t take my meds. Then that guy pissed me off and I know I overreacted. Like even as I was doing it I was like ‘wow, I’m taking this too far,’ but I couldn’t stop. It was like an out-of-body experience.”

“And this was the …?”

“Anxiety. The depression was coming down from it and hating myself for how I acted. The combo deal was being terrified that Luke and the rest of the world hated me for it too.” Gareth opens his mouth to respond, but Laurel keeps going. “And I _know_ it’s not true; I know it’s not rational, but that’s kind of what anxiety does.”

Gareth is at a loss for words (his first instinct is “so … how ‘bout them Mets?” but even he knows that’s not an appropriate response to this kind of soul-baring). So he doesn’t say anything, but he reaches over to take Laurel’s hand and squeeze.

Several long, silent moments pass before Gareth finally speaks. “So what _can_ I do to help? I mean this time I wasn’t there. I mean, I was there, but I wasn’t there, there. Like I got there after you … “ He realizes that he’s rambling and stops himself. _Stop digging the hole, Ritter_. Gareth doesn’t want to put words in her mouth; he doesn’t want to make Laurel uncomfortable or mistitle anything.

“The only thing that’s really constant is to be there. Depending on what triggers an attack, I need different help. The other night I needed to feel like people didn’t hate me for going off on that guy. Sometimes I need stuff to be put in perspective, like ‘hey the world isn’t going to end because you spilled your coffee’. Just make sure that I know you’re there and on my side? Other than that, guess and check.” Laurel gets up and rinses her plate, making it clear that real-talk time is over. They move to the couch for tacky reality TV and cuddles, and Gareth moves the conversation to the back of his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Protective older brothers and homemade soup ... what a fun combination!

Gareth doesn’t have any reason to think about their conversation for another week and a half. Even then, he doesn’t think anything of it when his phone rings.

“Gareth Ritter.”

“Hey, Gareth. It’s Luke. Healy.” Luke adds his surname almost as an afterthought. This piques Gareth’s interest, simply because Luke almost never calls personally across the aisle. If his office needs to talk to Red’s office, he has an underling do it.

“Luke? What do you need?”

“Uhh … Laurel said she talked to you the other day? About …” Luke doesn’t want to say too much, on the off chance that Laurel hasn’t actually told him about her disorders yet.

“Yeah. She, ah, she did. What’s going on? Is she OK?” Garth sits up a little straighter, suddenly tense.

“Before we go there, just let me remind you that this is my baby sister and if you hurt her, I will not hesitate to destroy not only your career, but the careers of everyone you care about, as well as your body. Got it?”

Gareth gulps. “Uh-huh.”

“Good. Now I don’t’ know how much Laurel told you, but. This all started when she was in high school. Our parents were going through a really messy divorce, so they weren’t around much. Laurel had a group of friends, but she wasn’t really close to any of them. Other than me, she pretty much went through it alone. Luke sighs, and Gareth takes the opportunity to interject.

“She’s not alone anymore. She’s got me.”

“Right. You and Rochelle and Gustav. And that’s good. It’s so good. But she’s been hurt before, and I don’t want to have it see it happen again. I’m not asking you what you intentions are, but whatever they are, be careful. Laurel, she’s strong, but she’s not invincible.”

“Of course. I’d never hurt her, not intentionally. Now, you still haven’t told me if she’s OK, and I’d really like an answer.”

“Right. So Laurel doesn’t just jump in and out of these ‘episodes’.” It’s more of a gradual thing, and she’s sliding down. The confidence isn’t there right now, but she’d never admit it, not to you.” Gareth picks up on the unspoken “not to anyone, even me,” but chooses not to comment.

“OK … So what can I do?”

“Just make sure she knows that she matters to you. Tell her that she’s important, and when that doesn’t work, show her.”

The conversation ends and Gareth goes back to work, but he can’t shake part of what Luke said. _Laurel is sliding down. The confidence isn’t there right now._ He considers just how well versed Laurel must be at looking “OK”. Gareth never picked up on any changes in her personality.

By 1:45, Gareth has given up on accomplishing anything other than worrying about Laurel. He gathers his things and gives Red a flimsy excuse about seasonal allergies and a park visit on his way out. It’s a quick walk to the nearest grocery store, then a slightly longer subway ride with his shopping bags.

Gareth and Laurel haven’t made any plans for the evening. In fact, they’ve both been so busy that it’s been almost two weeks since they’ve managed a proper, outside-the-Capitol date. He knows she’ll be home right after work, so he has a little more than three hours to work.

This time, Gareth doesn’t hesitate to let himself into Laurel’s apartment. He unloads the grocery bags and sets about finding the necessary pots and pans.

At 4:45, Gareth turns away from the stove and texts Laurel to diffuse any potential alarm when she comes home and someone is in her apartment.

**Gareth 4:46 pm**

hope u don’t mind company tonight

**Laurel 4:49 pm**

As long as company is cool w sweats and laziness

**Gareth 4:50 pm**

anything u want

Gareth’s timing, it turns out, is perfect. Just as Laurel unlocks the door, he spoons two servings of homemade chicken noodle soup into deep ceramic bowls.

“Gareth?” He hears Laurel move from the entryway to the bedroom, presumably to change clothes.

“Dinner’s ready! Movie?” He calls through the door. Laurel doesn’t respond until she emerges in sweats and a hoodie.

“You’re in my apartment.” She’s not accusing him, but she doesn’t seem overjoyed to see him either.

“Yeah. I cooked dinner.” Gareth holds up the soup bowls and nods toward her. “Is that mine?”

“Not anymore. You cook?” Laurel takes a bowl and sits down beside him on the couch.

“Ehh, here and there. I can do comfort food, if nothing else. How is it?” He watches as Laurel takes her first bite, letting her head fall against the back of the couch.

“Holy. Crap. This is _amazing_. Exactly what I needed tonight.”

“Yeah? Somehow I figured you’d need something tonight.” When Laurel looks over at him, Gareth suddenly realizes that Luke didn’t want for her to know about the conversation he and Gareth had. “You had to deal with constituents all day. There’s no way you don’t need a pick-me-up.”

“Ugh. You have no idea.” Gareth figures she’s just given him the best opening he’ll get to have a more serious conversation.

“You OK?” Laurel looks down at her bowl and considers her talk with Luke. _Let him in_ he’d said. _You don’t have to do this alone_. He’s right and Laurel knows that. She doesn’t have to do this alone, and Gareth clearly cares about her. _What the hell_ she decides, and takes a deep breath.

“No.” Laurel sets her soup on the coffee table and leans against Gareth’s shoulder. He sits his bowl next to hers and shifts slightly.

“What’s going on?” He’s genuinely concerned, especially by how flat her voice sounds. _Maybe she’s finally done hiding_.

“Honestly? Nothing. Everything is going well right now, but I still feel – off.”

“Off how?” Gareth pulls his arm out from under Laurel and wraps it around her shoulders.

“Like I’m not actually doing anything. I’m watching someone else live my life, and it’s not even that good, Gareth!”

“Laurel--” but she keeps going.

“I _know_ that I have a good life. And I _know_ that I’m lucky to be where I am. But it just feels so _pointless_ , you know? I’m not changing the world, I’m not even changing D.C.” Laurel tucks her head into Gareth’s shoulder and whimpers when he starts kneading the muscles in her shoulder.

“Maybe not, but you’re changing lives. Laurel, you gave that veteran his dying wish.” Almost immediately, Gareth regrets using that example; Lance Corporal Middleton had died on July 7, just three days after his daughter’s first birthday. “And you helped solve the spacebugs thing; I’d say that’s pretty major.” He resists the temptation to close with some cheesy line about how even if Laurel isn’t changing the world, she’s changed _his_ world.

Laurel doesn’t respond, but Gareth feels her shift against his side. He strokes her arm with his thumb while he builds up the courage for his next question.

“Laurel,” he waits for her to look up at him before continuing. “Did you take your meds today?” He figures it’s a softball question, but not something he should really be poking his nose in.

“Yeah. I learned my lesson about dose-skipping in college. But it’s been a long couple of weeks, and stress effects how well the antidepressants work.” Laurel takes a deep breath. “All I can do is play on and get through it.”

Gareth takes a couple of breaths while he formulates a response. Everything that comes to mind is crass at best, offensive at worst.

“There’s really nothing else you can do?” There. That just makes him sound curious, which he is.

“Try to keep it from becoming worse than it is. But that’s about it. It’s ah- not something a lot of people know about me now. Really just my parents, Luke and a couple of close friends. And now you, I guess.”

Gareth chooses to ignore the implications of being added to the list of people Laurel has opened up to; he didn’t miss the part she left unsaid: everyone else she’s ever told has left. Instead, he pulls her impossibly closer to his side and kisses her temple.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere. Promise.” Laurel relaxes noticeably when he says that, and the next hour passes quietly. Every so often, Gareth presses a kiss into her shoulder or her temple or the top of her head and whispers some small reassurance in her ear.

Finally, Gareth looks down to find Laurel fast asleep, ear pressed against his heart. He doesn’t try to stop the smile that makes its way across his face, but it probably wouldn’t have worked if he had.

After carefully weighing out his options, Gareth shuffles Laurel into his arms and carries her down the hall into her bedroom. He gets her under the covers before lying down himself and wrapping an arm around her waist.

It’s the first time in a week she’s slept all night.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting better ... until they aren't.
> 
> Emotionally out of it Gustav is my favorite thing, so we're gonna take that and run with it. Cool? Cool.

True to Luke’s promise, as soon as Laurel’s work life settles down (possibly due to an intervention on Luke’s part, but he’d never admit it), she finds her way out of her own head and her life returns to normal. It’s nice, and it lasts long enough to Gareth to forget to worry about her constantly.

Which is why he’s surprised to see Gustav nearly break down the door of his office in a rush to get inside.

“Gustav?” He shoves the door shut behind him and leans against it, breathing heavily. Gareth is already reaching for his phone, a residual habit from interacting with spacebug-frenzied Gustav. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t—I don’t know. Rochelle sent me up here. She’s—she’s with Laurel and-” Gareth stands up.

“Is Laurel OK?”

“No? She’s breathing weird and like not actually looking _at_ anything. Rochelle and Luke are with her.”

“Let’s go.” Gareth grabs his jacket and blows past Gustav as he leaves. Gustav spins around and tries to catch up.

“Dude, slow down! I already ran all the way here!” But Gareth either doesn’t hear him or ignores his pleas.

(Gareth’s been told before that he has a “politician’s walk”: fast and purposeful, always getting where he needs to go. Right now, he’s hurrying, so he must be hauling ass through the Capitol building. He knows this, but can’t bring himself to care or slow down for anything.)

Gareth is breathing hard by the time he gets to Laurel’s office, Gustav hot on his heels. He spares a couple of seconds to compose himself before opening the door.

Laurel is sitting on the floor, back against the front of her desk, with Luke and Rochelle on either side of her. Rochelle is holding her wrist and Gareth can hear Luke telling her to “focus on me, focus on my eyes, Laurel.” He can hear Laurel’s panty breathing from across the room.

“What’s going on?” Gareth closes the door behind him, getting the feeling that this isn’t something the entire office should be privy to. Rochelle looks at Luke, who nods. She releases Laurel’s arm and stands.

“Why don’t we step next door?” Gareth follows her into Luke’s office and asks again.

“What’s going on?”

“Why don’t you tell me what you know first so I don’t over share? Luke said Laurel told you about …” She trails off.

“Her depression. And anxiety. Yeah. What’s happening?”

“Right now, Laurel is showing symptoms of a panic attack: elevated heartbeat, rapid breathing – something triggered her fight or flight system, but she’s stuck between them, basically."

“So what do we do for her?”

“In med school we were taught to monitor the symptoms and try to keep the person comfortable. Grounding techniques work different for everyone, so we didn’t do much with those. Luke, he’s been around the block with Laurel on this, so he knows what works.”

“That’s why you sent—”

“Gustav, yes.” Rochelle finishes for him. “When Laurel started panicking, he looked like he was going to follow her right off the cliff. Two people doing that is a lot to handle, so we got him out of there.”

“Makes sense. What’s Luke been doing to – ground?” Rochelle nods at him. “To ground her?”

“He’s just been describing where she is and what’s going on. The year, the president, that kind of thing. She dropped really fast and isn’t verbal right now.” Rochelle sees the look on Gareth’s face and backtracks. “That’s a pretty typical symptom, especially for more severe anxiety. It just means that she can’t answer questions. So we don’t ask any because it might make her panic worse.”

“She can’t say _anything_? Wait, sorry.” Gareth grimaces.

“You’re fine. It’s why I brought you in here to talk. We couldn’t get much out of her, but she said your name a couple of times, so we sent Gustav to get you.”

Gareth can’t get his next question out. “Can- can- can I-?”

“Do you want to go back in?”

“Uhh … sure. What do I say?” Gareth isn’t used to being unsure of himself, but this is totally unexplored territory.  

“Just let her know that you’re there, that you aren’t going anywhere. When she’s verbal again, ask simple questions: what year is it, who’s the president, that kind of thing.”

“OK.” Gareth nods.

“Ready?” Rochelle turns the doorknob and waits for Gareth to nod again. He follows her back into Laurel’s office, where she’s still sitting against the desk. Luke is sitting cross-legged, with a hand resting on Laurel’s knee.

“Hey, Lo,” Luke speaks softly. “Remember that family trip to Florida? When Dad stepped on the urchin and his foot swelled up?” Laurel doesn’t say anything, but Gareth sees a flicker of recognition in her eyes as he sits down on her other side and takes her hand. Luke looks up and nods sharply at Gareth. “And I got sick on the Ferris wheel but we still had to wait for it to get down?”

A minute later, Gareth speaks carefully. “Hey Laurel. Uh- Gustav came down and got me. Listen, I don’t really know what’s going on, and I sure as hell don’t know what to do, but I’m here as long as you need me.” He squeezes her hand and looks up to Rochelle for reassurance. Gareth relaxes when she shoots him a thumbs-up and a smile.

They continue like this for another 15 minutes: Luke telling Laurel various stories from their childhood, from the news, whatever he can think of, while Gareth holds her hand and occasionally interjects with an anecdote of his own. They very carefully avoid any spacebug related chatter, for obvious reasons. Gareth notices that Laurel is looking around the room now, and actually focusing on what she’s seeing.

Finally, Rochelle kneels next to Gareth and places a hand on Laurel’s shoulder.

“Laurel? Can you tell me what year it is?” It takes Laurel a long moment to answer.

“2016.” Her voice is small, but there.

“Good. Do you know where you are?”

“The Capitol building. In my office.”

Rochelle keeps asking questions, and Laurel’s voice gets stronger with every correct answer. She draws her knees up to her chest and Gareth moves to trace patterns lightly across her shoulders.

After the back-and-forth questioning ends, Rochelle ushers Luke and Gustav back into Luke’s office, leaving Gareth alone with Laurel.

“Hey,” Gareth is tentative, careful not to say the wrong thing.

“Hey.”

“Uh- are you feeling better?” It’s a dumb question and he knows it, but Gareth asks anyway.

“Yeah. Yes. I’m- I’m really tired, but yeah. Better.”

“Good.” There’s a beat before Laurel speaks again.

“Umm … thanks for coming.”

“Hey, no problem. Gustav said you needed me, so here I am.” Gareth checks his watch. It’s 3:30 in the afternoon – close enough to the end of the day that he can justify taking off early.” Do you wanna get out of here? We can go back to my place, watch a movie or something.”

“I live closer, but yeah. I’d like that.” Gareth stands up and offers Laurel his hand.

“I’ve gotta go get some stuff from my office. Do you want to come with me or should I come get you on my way out?”

“Why don’t you come back? I’ll check back in with Luke; make sure he knows I’m in capable hands.”

“Sounds like a plan. 10 minutes?”

“Perfect.” Laurel squeezes his hand as he leaves.

Gareth gathers his things and returns to Laurel’s office as fast as he can. They take the subway back to her apartment and settle in on the couch after changing out of their work clothes. Laurel curls so tightly into Gareth’s side that he can _feel_ how fragile she is in the wake of her panic attack.

“Hey,” Gareth pokes her shoulder gently as he opens Netflix and pulls up Mean Girls, knowing it’s Laurel’s favorite de-stressing movie. “I’m here, you know. If you ever want to talk about it or anything.” Laurel sighs heavily before responding.

“Yeah. It’s just – hard sometimes. To pinpoint exactly what does it. And to talk about it.” She nuzzles his chest as the opening credits begin.

It isn’t 20 minutes later that Laurel is sound asleep on Gareth’s chest, breathing quiet and even. He tightens his grip on her shoulders and kisses the top of her head as his own eyes drift closed.

Yeah, he’s here as long as she needs him.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's that. I left room for a sequel, but who knows? I'm at the mercy of my muse, and she's fallen back into fluffy cute fic since I actually wrote this!
> 
> I love kudos and comments almost as much as Gareth loves Laurel. So, a lot.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for sticking with this all the way to the end! Here's hoping you had as much fun reading this as I had writing it!


End file.
